


At Last

by madameofmusic



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6138630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madameofmusic/pseuds/madameofmusic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter promised Wade he could pick their song for their wedding. </p><p>In retrospect, he probably should have at least asked what it was first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Last

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [Spideypool Exchange 2016](http://spideypoolexchange.tumblr.com/), for [minilollipops](http://minilollipops.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. 
> 
> They asked for either the angstiest or fluffiest thing ever, and I hope I delivered!

Peter shouldn’t have let Wade pick the wedding song. Peter really, _really_  shouldn’t have let Wade pick the wedding song without at least looking it over first, because knowing Wade, it could be anything from “Careless Whisper” to some weird song in a foreign language about goats.

Again.

The rest of the engagement party had gone off without a hitch, though.

But Wade had looked so earnest when he’d asked if he could pick a song, and Peter was a sucker.

So he’d agreed, since he already felt guilty for making most of the wedding decisions thus far ( _“We’re not making it red, white and blue, Wade.” “But Cap’s coming, Pete!”_ ).

And he was about to find out if that had been a good decision or not. Because it was time for the dance.

Peter was feeling kind of nauseous.

He trusted Wade explicitly, sure, but that didn’t always extend to the little things, like Wade’s ability to parse what would and would not be good for a first dance song, or what to wear the first time he met Aunt May.

(Peter had said to dress nice. The suit with the fewest holes and bloodstains did not _count_.)

The DJ announced the dance, and Wade stood, offering his hand to Peter. “Ready?”

Peter took a breath, and nodded. He was nervous for other reasons besides the song, of course. Dancing in front of a hundred people while they watched was nerve-wracking, no matter how many of them he knew for a fact couldn’t dance themselves.

Wade led Peter to the dance floor, and pulled him close. “I really hope you like this.” He said, pressing his lips into a tight line. It was then that Peter realised Wade was nervous too, and something inside him settled. It didn’t really matter what Wade had chosen, because they were still married.

And Peter would dance to as many weird folk songs about goats as Wade wanted.

Wade was talking, and probably had been for several moments already, but Peter had been too lost in thought to hear. “-and I even thought to ask Johnny what you might have liked, except he wasn’t any help, and-”

“Wade.”

“And I was really nervous, you know, because this is our special day, Pete, and I wanted it to go well, and-”

_“Wade.”_

“And I went through so many of them before picking this one, and I promised not another foreign song so that really got rid of about half of my possible choices, and-”

Peter shut him up with a kiss, melding their mouths together just long enough to get Wade to stop speaking frantically, and then pulled back.

“Hey, if I can’t hear it over your talking, I can’t tell you if I like it or not.” Peter said, amused as Wade’s mouth formed into an “oh”.

They danced for a few more measures, and Peter listened carefully. He’d heard it before, vague memories of Aunt May and Uncle Ben dancing around the kitchen to it surfacing suddenly. He smiled, and pressed his face into Wade’s chest. “At Last,” or something.

The lyrics made his heart swell, and he was glad no one currently there could, or would, read his mind, because at that moment it flooded with all the sappiest shit possible.

“Hey, you know-” Peter started, and bit his bottom lip for a second, thinking about how he wanted it to come out. He was trying to say the least amount of cheesy things as possible today, something he’d accomplished even through their vows (which had had even Tony Stark rolling in the aisles. Metaphorically, of course).

Wade tilted his head. “I just…” Peter trailed off again, and then looked Wade in the eye. “I would have loved anything you picked, because I love you," He said, words tumbling from his mouth, like he had just confessed his love for the first time, and not the thousandth, millionth.

Wade grinned, wide and bright. “You know, now that you broke the “no-cheese” rule, that means I get to top tonight.”

Pete smacked him playfully, and then rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You win. But really, Wade-”

Wade leaned in, and brushed his lips gently against Peter’s. “I get it, Pete. I love you too.” He said, and then pressed their foreheads together. “I mean, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have married you.”

The song had ended a few moments before, but they stayed on the dance floor, rocking back and forth, lost in their own world.

That is, at least, until a loud, manic beat began playing over the dance floor, and the DJ announced that it was time for the money dances. They were suddenly swarmed with other heroes from every angle, asking to cut in, and tucking anywhere from a single dollar bill ( _“Hawkeye, you cheap bastard, c’mere,”_ Wade had yelled, and began twirling a reluctant Clint around the floor), to few hundred ( _“Uh-” “Wait until you see the gift Steve made me buy. Just take this as consolation.”_ Tony had said conspiratorially to Peter, as he led him in a quick two-step to some twangy nonsense Wade must have hid on the playlist).

And that was how the rest of the night went. Peter and Wade would get to dance an occasional song together, and then would be cut in by some hero Peter had only dreamed of _talking_ to a couple years prior, nevertheless having at his wedding.

But the night came to a close, and the last dance was just for them, as most of the guests had either headed home, were chaperoned away from the free bar by Pepper Potts and a frustrated Steve Rogers, or, in some cases, been called away to stop some minor bad guy or another.

Peter felt briefly sad for the losers at the ends of those fights. A very specific, angrily worded letter had gotten into every compound, lair, or otherwise in a thousand mile radius, stating very explicitly that any bad guys caught that day would be on the receiving end of some very angry heroes’ fists. It wasn’t often anyone got a day off, and they were going to make the most of it.

Wade had his hands tucked just above Peter’s waistband, and he hummed along with whatever was playing over the stereo system, face pressed into Peter’s hair. “Hey Pete?”

Peter opened an eye, and tilted his head just enough to see the side of Wade’s face. “Hm?”

“I’m glad you said yes.” Wade said, voice uncharacteristically soft. “Also, how much longer until we can make use of the honeymoon suite? Because your ass is looking _amazing_ in these pants and I-”

Peter snorted, rolled his eyes, and tucked his face back into Wade’s chest. “Impatient.” He said, and breathed deeply.

“And Wade?”

“Yeah?” Wade smoothed a hand over Peter’s back, and Peter could feel the pressed into the top of his head.

“I’m glad I said yes too.”

**Author's Note:**

> The song they dance to is "At Last" by Etta James. You can find it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwzDxp2TC7I).
> 
>  
> 
> [My tumblr](http://whiskeytangofrogman.tumblr.com/)


End file.
